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"Let no one weep for me, or celebrate my funeral with mourning; for I still live, as I pass to and fro through the mouths of men."
~Quintus Ennius
Chapter Fifty-four: Judgment
"Irina?" Jane couldn't tear her eyes from what couldn't be real. There she was, blonde and scarred and battered and... "You died!"
"I thought you did!" Her own eyes filled up with glass and mist. "I thought...they said you died in the blast-"
"You were closer to it than me!" Jane scrambled over and seized Irina's hand in both of hers. She shook all over, jolts flying through her body at just the sound of the Russian's voice. "You blew yourself up, and I wound up in the sewers. I made my way out, and Central...the old man..."
"What's happening in here?" Aileen appeared in the doorway. "In case you missed the memo, Captain, the Warlock's in the building and I don't see any Reapers hiding under the bed in here."
"They took her to Data Extraction. They just threw us back in here: we're not worth anything to them." Zhang hurried out into the corridor. "She might already be dead."
"That's not an option." Aileen eyed Irina for a moment. "Who's this?"
"Irina Vasilieva. Jane and I..." Irina shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We'll trade stories later." She threw aside her thin blanket, and Jane had to jump back as she put down a metal skeleton-frame leg in addition to one organic. "Dragunova doesn't have much time, if her ticket hasn't been punched already. I know the Warlock's visited her twice."
"Shit!" That announcement was enough to shock Jane back into action, and she scurried for the door. "Alright. Aileen, get Irina and Zhang to the facility perimeter. I'll call Firebrand and get her on standby."
"If she closes in, the facility will pick her up on sensors."
"Then have her ready to close the instant we call." Jane hit her com. "Mox, do you copy? We have Shaojie Zhang in tow and are moving for extraction." She heard a voice that sounded like Fatima's inhale sharply, but the Egyptian didn't interrupt as Jane rolled onward. "Dragunova is here at the south end of the facility in the Data Extraction wing. Fill in the blanks."
Creativity was not a Skirmisher's strong suit. They were, after all, bred for war as Advent puppets, made to serve and not question - to obey, rather than infer. Freedom was one thing, but rigidity of thinking was a common enough flaw in the Free.
Still, some blanks were easier to fill than others.
The Data Extraction Door exploded under Mox's breaching charge, and fire and fury seared and scorched the corridor. Fatima covered her eyes, but his helmet did the job for him - and it let him pick through the smoke in the now-empty doorway and spot the moving shapes that were not human no matter how closely they tried to mimic it.
Blam-blam-blam! One burst from his bullpup, and a stun lancer collapsed in a heap, twitching out its last moments of life. The other Adventer was a shieldbearer, and she dove for cover in time to avoid Mox's second burst. He raced through the smoke, sliding behind a support column while the shieldbearer's equipment hummed and whirred, and Advent voices screamed out in protest.
"Oh, my..." Mox was no believer in the humans' God, any more than in the Elders who had enslaved his kind. Still, he felt the need to invoke something, anything, as he beheld the horror of Data Extraction: automated torture devices that peeled up flesh, acidic tanks like those at the black site, tables that locked hapless victims in place... "Oh, my Commander..."
"Watch it, Mox!" Fatima sprinted in, EXO suit rumbling as she grabbed a fuel drum lying by the wayside. One-handed, she threw it, and it hit the shieldbearer in the face before her barrier could come up.
Boom!
"Left side!" Mox ignored the shieldbearer's hapless wailing and the stuttering of her damaged equipment, instead opening up on full auto as three soldiers raced in from the flank, rifles up. His volley cut one down, but the other two found cover, and their return fire came just as even his extended magazine ran dry. Mox flattened himself behind the column, reloading as calmly as he could while red mag-shots ripped chunks of metal away all around him.
His eyes found a mirror, and behind those two soldiers and their fusillade were...
Mox threw a grenade. He didn't look when he did it: he just plucked it from his belt, ripped out the pin, and flung it behind him on the general hope that it would accomplish something. As sure as the tide, it missed, but even Advent's purpose-bred soldiers had to duck and cover when something blew up nearby. That was the opening he needed to pop out and-
Boom-hiss!
"You are judged!" Mox cried, as his grapple line seized one soldier by the throat. He yanked the unfortunate soul his way, and when the soldier stumbled, his ripjack went out, driving up under his chin. The trooper thrashed, choking and wailing, while Mox fired blind under his arm, hoping to finish the last one off with a lucky shot. He charged, using the still-fighting corpse as a shield.
"Mor balaten!" The third soldier ducked out of the way as Mox threw his friend, then came up with rifle ready. Mox caught it by the barrel, shoving the muzzle up toward the ceiling and slashing with his ripjack. The soldier caught his wrist, and for a moment they grappled. Mox ripped away his helmet, but the soldier retaliated by nearly smashing his head into the first of the occupied tables. Mox fought, but hands went around his throat, and the soldier screamed furious anger as he bore his weight down-
Something wet hit the trooper in the eye, and he flinched. Mox seized the moment while he had it, and he gouged the puppet's face with his nails, hard enough he drew yellow. When the soldier stumbled, Mox's ripjack struck, almost as if it had a mind of its own.
"Outrider!" Mox ignored the corpse, and he grabbed at the table, snapping restraint bars with his ionic jack. Spittle still dripped from her lips, as if she couldn't muster the strength to rein herself in. She managed to say something, but far too weak to be intelligible, and Mox's heartbeat sped up. "Hold on. Just hold on, Elena-"
"Donut!" Evidently there had been a fourth soldier, somewhere in the mess. This one was a captain, and he aimed square at Dragunova from the other end of the table. Mox froze as he pressed his gun to her head. "Call a taxi-"
Blam!
He flew halfway across the room, nearly ripped into three pieces. What was left of him coated the other table, and Mox had to wince.
"That was for Annette." Fatima hurried to the other table, making sure to kick the officer's remnants in passing.
"Can you hear me?" Mox cut the last of Dragunova's bonds, and gently he pulled her to a sitting position. She mumbled weakly, and his veins flushed cold. "Don't shit me, Reaper: do you hear me, yes or no?"
"Mox?" Finally, she got her voice up. Her eyes fluttered open, and for once they weren't full of derision and scorn. "Took...took your goddamn time, didn't you, alien?"
"You...you claim Reapers are tougher than the average human. I was testing you. For science above all." Mox pulled her to the edge of the table. "Can you walk?"
"If I have to, I will. Whether I can is academic." She put her feet down, and though she swayed and her face went white, Dragunova did in fact stand. She leaned on Mox's shoulder.
"Over here!" Fatima waved, and both Mox and Dragunova looked. The Assault plucked another form up, and if Dragunova was in bad shape, this woman was at death's door. "Avenger: I have the Doctor."
"Come on, come on..." Gallant swallowed dryly. "Firebrand?"
"On station, sir. Just like she's been the last three times you asked."
"I don't need your snippery, John." Gallant shook with cold sweat, watching the icon representing Menace slip out of the prison facility. Zhang, Dragunova, and Vahlen all three? Angelis would be furious when she got word of this. "I need them back on my ship, now."
"They have to clear the perimeter." Volk didn't argue for long, though. "The sooner Outrider returns, the happier I'll be. I've lost too many good people to the aliens already. If this is one day I don't have to..."
"This is Kelly." The woman herself paused, huffing for breath. Gallant hung on her voice, letting its Irish notes wash over him. "We're close to the far edge of the perimeter. I'm calling Firebrand now."
"Every sensor in the base is going to light up," Bradford warned.
"I know, sir. But if we don't call her now, they're going to find the bodies anyway."
"Send her in." Gallant didn't care to listen to any counterarguments, so he shut them out. "Send her in and get the team out of there, before-"
Blam! Distortion flashed all over the holodisplay, and an energy signature sprang up before the team.
Gallant's mouth went dry.
"Oh...fuck..." Jane swallowed on a dry throat. The chill of frozen Canada's wastes was nothing - nothing - compared to the internal ice that locked up her limbs and paralyzed her.
"Where the Elders see you, so they send me." The Warlock shot his hands to the sky, and pillars of purple crashed down around him, each one disgorging a soldier in black armor before fading away. "Where I go, so goes the will of the gods! So travel their legions!"
"Son of a bitch!" Zhang tackled one soldier before he could get his gun up, and they crashed into the snow, fists flying. Fatima lunged to cover him, shard gun roaring. Red mag-fire split the night, and Jane dove for cover alongside Dragunova, while Mox returned fire.
Jane's eyes fell to Moira Vahlen, cowering under Aileen's arm, white of face and quivering. Her eyes still had light to them, but she held tight to the Specialist every moment, and her wounds oozed blood despite her bandages. Her age lines put more worry in Jane's mind: if she didn't get treatment soon...
"Keep her safe!" Jane lunged to her feet. "Mox, Dragunova is your responsibility!"
"What are you doing?" Aileen tried to cover her with the Bolt Caster. "Jane-"
"Forget that and take care of the Doctor!" Jane brought her weapon up, and she fired on the move. Her shots went wide and high, but the soldiers firing back from the light treeline ahead took cover, even though she wasn't aiming for them.
"Captain, what are you doing?" Bradford demanded. Jane ignored him and fired again.
"Child! Foolish child!" The Warlock snarled as a shot hit his armor, punching enormous dents in it. His pointed teeth came out, and his alloy talons glinted in the angry moonlight. "You will burn!"
"Fuck!" Jane covered her head as purple tendrils shot her way. They tore at her, grabbing at her clothes and hair, pushing deep into her skull-
And then they were repulsed by an iron wall, and Jane realized she could still think.
"...what have you done?" the Warlock demanded.
"Love to chat. Really, I would, but-" Blam!
"Agh!" He staggered, and Jane tried to shoot again. Her gun clicked haplessly, and she seized the axe handle protruding over her shoulder instead. She lunged, hacking madly, and the Warlock retreated, blocking with his heavy bracers. Jane caught him in the leg, then went for his head with a jumping strike-
"You think you are mighty, but you are nothing!" The Warlock caught her by the throat, and Jane lost her axe. It tumbled into the snow, and she grabbed at the enormous hand choking her, holding her three feet above the ground. "Nothing, compared to me - and less against the might of the gods themselves!"
"Jane!" A blonde thunderbolt arced across the snow, and she hit the Warlock with her shoulder. "Let her go!"
"Aileen-" Jane screamed as the Warlock threw her. She tumbled head over heels through the air, landing hard on her shoulder. Thankfully the snow cushioned her fall, and she slid almost a dozen feet even as her side lit up angrily. Recognition clicked in a moment later. "Irina!"
"You have spirit." The Warlock seized Irina by the forehead, and she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Purple blazed in the air around them, and the Warlock's lips split into an even more hellish smile. "I wonder if your friend will have what it takes to snuff that spirit before it snuffs her?"
"How is she, Quinn?"
"Hang in there. Just hang on." Aileen tried to ignore the shouting and the fighting just like she was ignoring Gallant, but it was hard. She bit her lip, laying Vahlen gently in the snow. "Let me have a look at you."
"Your weapon." Was that accent German or French? Aileen couldn't tell, and it was pissing her off. "That...that is one of my prototypes."
"Huh?" Aileen glanced at it. "Well. Suppose so." She looked up at the fight. "I...it might make a difference-"
"Heal the Doctor, woman!" Someone ripped the Bolt Caster right from her hands, then her ammunition pouch from around her shoulders. "I'll keep you covered."
"You can barely stand yourself!" Aileen didn't hesitate long though. "Fine, Dragunova. Not like I can stop you anyway." She returned to Vahlen, and winced when she examined the severed digits on both of the scientist's hands. "They...did not go easy on you, did they?"
Vahlen cracked a sick laugh, even as more explosions and gunfire rent the night. "Life never goes easy, young lady: it has gone less easy on me than most."
"Quinn, I say again: how is she?" Gallant only waited about half a second before he sucked in a sharp breath. "Moira...I need to know, Lieutenant!"
"Nessie. Medical scan." Aileen held Vahlen's hand while the GREMLIN obediently buzzed around her, a blue sensor light following the doctor's veins and wounds. Aileen didn't like what popped up on her arm display. "Okay. That's a bit of a mess. But I'm sure once we get you aboard Firebrand...I can at least stabilize you. We've got a kickass infirmary back aboard Avenger-"
"That drone. Does it have a communication relay?"
"Uh." Aileen glanced at Nessie. "Yeah. Viewscreen and everything. Got a call you need to make?"
"Ja." Her smile was tired, her smile was strained...and yet there was something eagerly expectant about it. "A call I have delayed for far too long."
"Please remain still."
"Irina!" Jane Kelly ducked backward as the Russian bore down on her. "Remember who you are! Don't make me-"
"Get the Warlock, kid!" Shaojie Zhang launched himself off a trooper's body, bypassing Elena Dragunova bashing his head in with the butt of the Bolt Caster. Mox's bullpup roared and his grapple detonated in the dark, and somewhere Fatima was blowing soldiers to char and splintered flesh with shards of alien alloys. Zhang didn't care about any of it: he had fists.
That was all Irina had too, and Zhang caught her by the shoulders and planted them both into the snow.
She rolled to her feet, and so did he as quickly as he could. Kelly hesitated, but then she ran off into the dark, drawing her other axe, and Zhang had to move in a flash to keep Irina from pursuing her. He caught her around the waist, flinging her back into the snow one-armed.
He got a metal kick to the face for his trouble, and he stumbled with the taste of blood in his mouth.
Irina's arm blurred as she lunged for him, and Zhang squared up, taking a relentless volley of shots on his arms. The moment he had the chance, he kicked, and Irina stumbled again, clutching her ribs. Zhang followed up with a jumping punch, only for her to snap out of the way, surprisingly agile for her impairments. She scored a blow into his face, and when he caught her arm she resorted to headbutting him. His nose cracked from the impact, and more red shot down over his chin. Her eyes glowed the most unnatural purple in the universe.
"Please do not resist. Glory to the Elders." Irina caught his throat.
Unfortunately for her, she only had one arm, and Zhang had two, and he proceeded to box her ears. She let out a hissing wail, and Zhang gave her headbutt right back with interest. She collapsed to her good knee, clutching her face.
Zhang was not one for mercy. His spinning hook kick caught her on the cheek and flung her flat on her face in the snow, hard enough he wasn't at all sure her neck hadn't broken for a few seconds.
"Donut!" A stun lancer lunged for him, and Zhang had to dive frantically out of the way. He caught a rock, throwing it to catch his enemy off-guard-
"Chilong!" Fatima appeared for just a moment, and she threw something orange and glowing.
Zhang caught the arc blade by the hilt, and when the lancer came in again, he parried her strike. She stumbled, her blade flying from her grip, and Zhang proceeded to run her through. Unsatisfied, he ripped the mag-rifle from her back, flipped the safety off, and shot her a few times.
Then...
"Clear the line of fire!" Zhang knelt, mindful of his age and his weakness and longing for a cigar. He sighted, waiting until Jane ducked out of the way, then-
Blam-blam-blam!
"You will burn, perfidious insect!" The Warlock leveled a finger at Zhang, and he had to drop the rifle and clutch his head as pain and dazed agony exploded in his skull. He crashed to both knees, trying to kick the angry beam of boiling hate out before it finished with him, but it was too much.
All he saw was Annette, infested and howling in agony...that moment when he claimed the pistol and...
Over and over again...
"Commander. You have an incoming transmission."
"Not now!" Gallant seethed, clutching his burning chest. "Moira...Moira...why the hell can't Kelly and her team fight a goddamn purple haired nutball..."
"Sir...it's from Menace."
"He's right, Commander." Bradford shot Gallant a look. "It's from Quinn's drone."
Gallant froze. "I..."
Indecision warred with uncertainty with shock. What was this? Was it...no. No, it couldn't...but...
"On screen," someone else said with his voice. "Route it to my com unit, not the speakers."
It took too long. But...but it was almost immediate, and...
It was. It was her. Brown hair, blue eyes...aged, aged twenty years since his last memories, looking more like an aunt than a contemporary now. Her bones were visible under the stretched skin of her cheeks, and she was pale as she shivered in the wild snowfall. White built in her locks and her eyebrows, pasting over her face...
But it was her.
"Moira..."
"Edward." She smiled, even if only a little. She raised her hand to touch Nessie's camera, and Gallant reached out toward his own. The illusion of touch was crueler even than the lack of contact could ever be. "It's been too long since we spoke...Commander."
"Don't call me that. You don't have to..." Gallant clutched the rail, ignoring the wild race in his chest as something tried to hammer out of his ribcage. His arms burned and boiled from the strength of his grip. He barely even noticed Betos and Volk gently ease down to the bridge main floor, turning their gazes respectfully to the tactical display rather than Gallant's com-screen. "Moira...we're going to get you out of there."
"I'm sorry, Edward." Her eyes darkened. "I made mistakes. I should have tried to contact Bradford rather than move ahead with the Ruler experiments on my own."
"Should have? Moira, you're going to see him. Not long now." Gallant did his damndest to smile. "We can talk it out then. You can help us figure out how to take them down-"
"Edward..." She chuckled weakly, the sound almost drowned out by an explosion in the background that made the channel fuzz up for a minute. "You are still a young man when it counts. You haven't..." Wonder crept into her eyes. "You haven't aged a day."
"Moira!" Gallant swallowed. "You...you just need to stay strong. Breathe in and out and let Lieutenant Quinn take care of you-"
"Edward, time has never been on our side." Vahlen reached to her shirt pocket, hand quivering as if she were twice her age. "They...they took the picture I kept of you."
"The West Point one?" Gallant couldn't help clutching the rail a little tighter. "Before Iraq?"
"No, Commander. The one John talked you into after we saved Shanghai from Zhang's dreadnought." Vahlen shook her head. "You've always defined yourself too much by what you wish you've never lost, and it's kept you from seeing what you still have."
"I don't..." Gallant reached up to wipe at the cold sweat dripping down his neck and over his forehead. "I don't like the way you're talking, Moira."
"I just...I simply..." She sucked in a deep breath, and her face contorted as if with pain. "Commander, I wish I had been brave enough to have this conversation sooner. If I had...perhaps we could have avoided much."
"Moira-"
She mustered another smile - one more, with something final about it. "Commander..."
"Moira!" Gallant nearly lunged when she fell onto her elbow. Quinn started talking, fast and loud, but none of it made sense. The world condensed and focused and narrowed, and pain seared his chest.
"Don't..." Vahlen coughed. "Don't carry me, Edward, like all the others. Don't define yourself by...by..."
"Moira!" Gallant seized at his hair, heedless of Shen and Tygan and Bradford and Quinn and the firefight and anything else, even the shooting agony racing down his arm like a lit-up oil channel.
She fell in the snow, her eyes sliding shut as snow piled up on her face, and, and...
"Moira!"
Someone hit him with a sledgehammer capped with explosives. It drove right into his chest, hitting like a meteor strike hurled from the base of an Elder's ship with fury aplenty. Agony lit him up like a Christmas tree, spiraling outward from the point of impact along every nerve and synapse in his system...
"Commander!" Lily was the one to dive onto her knees as Gallant tumbled from his perch, crashing down the stairs in a screaming heap of devastated pain. She caught his head before it cracked on the bridge floor, and the last thing Gallant saw before the kalediscope of Hell consumed his world was Vahlen's image on the viewscreen-
"Hey, asshole!" Jane swung low, and she caught the Warlock on the back of his calf. He howled, purple whirling around his arms.
"Maybe I cannot harm you, Ranger, but they can!" The shrieking of ten thousand damned souls filled Jane's world, and violet forms burst from the snow, glowing and clawing their way into the air. She spun and slashed the first one to emerge, but the others howled, shining with inner light-
"Head down!" The Bolt Caster went off a moment later, and Jane plunged her face into the snow as the shot slammed into one of the ruptured spectral zombies.
The explosion sent snow flying in all directions. Jane rolled as the force of the blast moved her, too, and she covered her head when an Advent helmet came down right where her head had just been. People screamed on all sides, and she belatedly realized she was one of them.
"It doesn't matter!" The Warlock pulled at his hair, and purple psi-tendrils came out with his grip. He flung them at Dragunova, and she howled, fighting her way through the motions of reloading the Bolt Caster. "You are weak, Reaper! I will break your mind in twain-"
"Shut the fuck up!" Jane lunged to her feet again, fetching her axe from the snow and driving it into the small of his back. His armored plating buckled and bent, and the Warlock roared in agony. Jane hefted the axe again. "Shut! The! Fuck! U-"
The Warlock caught her with both hands, and Jane cried out when he sank his teeth into her forearm. Malice glinted in his eyes as red coated his chin.
"You taste sweet," he snarled, pulling her in close. "Like rotten fruit!"
"Captain, get the hell out of there!"
Jane spared one glance for the talker. One, at first, then two when she realized what was happening. She yanked hard, but the Warlock held her tight, pulling with his superior strength.
"You would make a fine pet," he mused, "if only I removed your protection. Perhaps Angelis would like you? Yes, I think she would. I should bring you to her as a gift."
Power built in the air. Jane's breath came in ragged, and she tasted the energy on her tongue. If she didn't act quickly...but she couldn't break the Warlock's grip. She wasn't strong enough, not alone-
Jane pointed her arm at the nearest tree, and fired the Spider Suit's grapple.
"What are you doing-"
The line sunk into a branch as thick as Jane was tall, and then her motor whirred. Jane yelped as agony exploded down her arm, building pressure on her shoulder until she thought it would tear the limb from its socket. She slid through the snow, still caught in the Chosen's grip.
Then another line shot out, this one seizing the Warlock around the neck. Mox yanked, and Dragunova and Zhang seized the line with him. Together, their combined force was enough to get the Warlock to stumble.
Enough to get him to let go.
"Everyone, get down!" Fatima cried, as Jane shot clear of the Warlock. The Assault leveled her own wrist, and up popped the built-in device Shen had affixed to the EXO suit. A lone projectile arced out, looking almost beautiful in the dark.
Until it hit the Warlock dead in the chest, and the detonation obliterated half the glade.
"Shit!" Jane flew, her line breaking from the overpressure. She tumbled as fire shot up like a pyre and signal, melting snow and hurling it in great wafting waves. White powder cascaded over her, and Jane covered her head. Her virgin head: her ballcap was gone, lost somewhere in her flight. Smoke billowed past her, and she stumbled through it, keeping as low as she could. The world rang and echoes, and her legs wavered under her with every step.
"Captain!" That was faint, but understandable. Fatima appeared through the smoke, eyes ablaze with vengeance. "I think we got it!"
"Good!" Jane finally made it out of the cloud to where the Assault stood vigil. She keyed her com. "Firebrand? I don't know where the hell you are, chick, but you better get your ass out here on the double. There'll be more of them!"
"Hang tight. I'm almost there!"
"All call signs, check in!" Jane staggered into white snow. Her foot hit something, and Jane let out a gasp when she saw her cap, smoldering but intact. She seized it, but didn't bother putting it back in place just yet. "Is anyone still alive?"
"I'm here!" Irina stuck her hand up in the distance. "What the hell hit me?"
"I did." Zhang took her hand. "Several times."
"We're alive." Mox sheltered Dragunova under his arm, while she trembled and shivered. "Captain, Elena will not survive this cold much longer, even if we are not pursued."
"Firebrand's on the way." Jane glanced at Fatima again, then hurried back to the rear. "Aileen?"
"I'm..." She didn't finish the sentence. Jane picked up the pace until her form materialized in the dark. She knelt in the snow, and there in front of her...
"The Doctor!" Jane scrambled over to them. "Aileen, what happened-"
"Captain..." Aileen reached out, and she put two fingers on the side of Doctor Vahlen's neck.
For a moment, everything was very quiet.
"...no pulse."
Author's Note 54: Guess Fatima Should Have Exercised More Restraint
I find it interesting to watch soldiers running through snow, ice, grass, water, deserts, and all the other biomes in the game wearing exactly the same clothes. I mean, it's reasonable for some outfits, but those Reaper cloaks look viciously hot in deserts. And I'm not even getting into what happens if you make stripper soldiers and send them into action in Siberia! Feel bad, you pervert. Don't feel bad enough to stop doing it, because that's half of what we play the game for, but feel bad about it.
This chapter was originally supposed to cover a good bit more material, but I had to split it for time. I'm not entirely happy with how I did it, but I had to do something. I hope the next chapter doesn't come across too wonky as a result of these changes, but that's what I don't get paid to worry about.
Until next time, Vigilo Confido.